


Stig in the Dark

by Tadpole4176



Series: Retirement Trouble [11]
Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Kidfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tadpole4176/pseuds/Tadpole4176
Summary: What if Top Gear just kept going… until someone thought he needed to retire? And what if Stig thought that was a bad idea?It's New Year's Eve and Richard isn't sure he can handle this anymore. In steps Stig, again.
Relationships: Jeremy Clarkson/Richard Hammond/James May
Series: Retirement Trouble [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953919
Comments: 9
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

It was New Year’s Eve. Richard slumped down in the corner, partially hidden by the curtains and glad of the fact. Around him his friends were having a great time. Jeremy and James were wobbling around the room chatting to everyone, most of the way to properly drunk and not caring what was going on at all. And the other people, they were all friends too, people from work, other mutual friends from various adventures, old crew members who’d moved on, they were people he liked and got on with, but not just now. Now he was sober, and a child, and out of place.

He rested his elbows on his knees, leaning his head forward into his hands, thinking of all the plans he’d had this time last year. Resolutions he’d had like getting fitter or stopping smoking that he’d achieved, but in such a way that it wasn’t any sort of accomplishment, and other ideas he’d had about the year, in particular he’d been wondering if they could do the Dakar rally, and OK – he hadn’t convinced Jeremy, James or Andy that that was a good idea, but it’d been there as a possibility.

Now it wasn’t. None of those things made sense when your body thought you were 12 - probably. Still. James wouldn’t even concede that he might be 13 when he’d had his birthday a few weeks before, just muttered that he was much too small to be 13 and must have actually been 11 before. Richard sighed again, that just made it even worse, like he wasn’t actually progressing anywhere. What was he going to do? Was there even any point in trying to plan things for the year? Maybe things like getting through the year without needing any more rescuing, that would be a suitably rubbish resolution. Or he could aim to grow an inch or two so that James might say he could be a teenager next year.

He didn’t even want to be a teenager! What kind of goal was that?

Richard swallowed miserably, close to tears now, he felt so lost, like there was nothing he could do to fix anything. Around him, the party drifted on, loud and merry, oblivious to the turmoil in his head. He closed his eyes, shutting it out.

The next thing he knew, The Stig was sitting beside him, poking him in the arm as though he was something suspicious he’d found on the pavement. Richard looked up at him, puzzled, and Stig grabbed him by the arm, dragging him away.

In a blur of movement, the boy found himself in Stig’s car, buckled in before he could even raise any questions – not that raising questions with Stig ever did any good – and then they were at the Top Gear track. Stig passed him a fire suit, probably the one that James had found for the volcano experiment, Richard realised with a small chuckle, pulling it on obediently as the Stig stood with his arms crossed, waiting.

“Stig, this is much too big, though,” he told the racing driver.

Stig simply continued to stare at him unnervingly, waiting, his foot beginning to tap as he got impatient.

Richard rolled his eyes in frustration, dragging the sleeves of the suit past his hands so that he could fasten the suit himself, afraid more than anything that The Stig would start to help him. Somehow Stig helping him get dressed seemed like the ultimate humiliation. He made it, pulling the zip up and fastening the collar as tight as it would go.

“There, OK?” he challenged Stig.

Stig nodded once, then reached over and deftly loosened the collar before reaching to grab Richard’s elbow to steady him.

Richard looked up at him in puzzlement, even more confused than he had been before, then abruptly his stomach rolled and the entire world seemed to lurch drunkenly around him. “What?” he queried, unsure what he was asking.

Naturally, Stig said nothing, simply patting him on the head, and only then did Richard recognise what had happened.

He was full size! Obviously, Stig was still taller, which made the perspective change harder to spot, but he was definitely grown up. His eye level pointed at the bottom of Stig’s helmet somewhere, instead of his chest, and his hands no longer dangled uselessly inside the fire suit!

“I thought you said you couldn’t reverse it?” he asked Stig.

Stig walked away. Initially, Richard thought he was leaving, a spike of fear running through him at the prospect of being left alone, despite no longer being small and relatively helpless. He smiled, inwardly laughing at himself, that was probably something he’d have to live with for a few weeks, it had been months after all.

He was big! He could handle anything!

Then Stig reappeared, driving the latest, even faster, Rimac towards him at great pace, stopping just close enough to get his heart racing, but not near enough to actually be dangerous. He climbed out, nudging Richard towards the driver’s seat.

“What if I’ve forgotten how to drive?” asked Richard, expressing his fears aloud even though he knew he wouldn’t receive an answer. Stig, of course, simply stared at him, waiting.

He climbed in, adjusting the seat and marvelling at the feeling of his feet reaching the pedals, touching all the dials and buttons on the dashboard, appreciating the reality of the moment, making it tangible. The Rimac was an automatic anyway, so there wasn’t much that was complicated to remind himself of, but still it was a big expensive car, and he didn’t want to lose control, he rehearsed driving it for several minutes before pulling the door closed and turning the car on.

No noise accompanied him, but moments later, his foot pressed the accelerator, and the car leapt towards the first corner, pressing him into the seat and scaring him – just enough. He gripped the steering wheel harder, the grin on his face widening as he flung the car round the first corner with a light screech of tyres.

“It’s like riding a bike,” he said to himself, which – of course – it wasn’t at all.

He drove round the track for ages, lap after lap, each time seeing the Stig standing watching, his arms crossed, motionless but not telling him to stop. Finally, as the battery warning light started to flash at him, he pulled over beside the Stig, opening the door and climbing out before grabbing the surprised Stig in a hug.

“Thanks, Stig!”

Cautiously, Stig returned the hug, patting Richard on the back, then nudging him back towards the car they’d arrived in and taking them back to the party.

As they walked in, slightly self-consciously in Richard’s case, aware that he’d grown a lot and was appearing at the party looking as though he was in Stig fancy dress, they discovered a massive ruckus. Gone was the happy babble of slightly tipsy, merry friends, it had been replaced by angry shouting and jeering.

“Have there been gatecrashers?” asked Richard, looking round the room to see if he still recognised the people there. There did seem to be more strangers than he remembered, but before he could really put his finger on it, he realised that one of the strangers was squaring up to a very drunk Jeremy, shoving him back and yelling at him – some rubbish about Top Gear and politics, the usual.

Richard didn’t stop to think, he dived in, quickly standing at Jeremy’s side as the stranger shoved the bigger man again, without Jeremy doing more than arguing in retaliation. Without waiting for it to get worse, Richard clenched his fist and punched the man hard in the face, sending him sprawling to the floor. As Jeremy looked on in surprise, Richard, now accompanied by Stig, moved to grab the aggressor before he managed to get up off the floor, taking one arm each and dragging him out of the door and firmly closing it behind him.

He turned back to his friend, watching him stagger across the room after him. “You OK, Jez?” he asked, when he finally caught up.

Jeremy grinned. “Thanks, Hamster,” he slurred, slinging his arm round Richard’s shoulders and apparently not thinking twice about his change in appearance.

Richard rolled his eyes, gently navigating his friend to a chair, then realising that normally he’d expect there to be other interference standing at Jeremy’s side. “Where’s James?”

Jeremy blinked, his eyebrows frowning in concentration. “He said something,” he replied, unhelpfully. “He was looking for something.”

“Beer?” asked Richard. “A new life? Give me a clue!”

“He went out,” said Jeremy firmly. “But on foot, too drunk to drive.”

Richard sighed. “You stay here,” he told Jeremy sternly, though it didn’t look as though his friend was capable of much else.

The Stig stepped forward with a nod, mechanically taking the chair opposite Jeremy before handing Richard the car keys. He held out one finger pointedly.

“I’ll be careful,” promised Richard. “Thanks, Stig.”

He headed back out of the door, grateful that the angry gatecrasher hadn’t loitered, dodging the few spots of freezing cold rain that had started to fall as he headed back to Stig’s car.

James wasn’t far away. Thankfully, he’d headed in the direction of the nearest village, obviously intending to stock up on alcohol, but in the dark had taken a wrong turn, and was drunkenly staggering in the direction of the motorway when Richard caught up with him, cold and inappropriately dressed for the weather that was now closing in on him.

“Hamster!” smiled James, climbing into the car as soon as he saw it.

“Where were you going?” asked Richard.

“We’d run out of those little umbrellas and Jez wanted a cocktail,” mumbled James.

“And you thought the nearest village on New Year’s Eve, or I suppose New Year’s Day by now, was the place to sort that out? And even that the oaf would care how his cocktail looked when he’s already three sheets to the wind and I had to rescue him from a fight?”

“He was in a fight!” exclaimed James. “Can’t take you two anywhere.”

“Yes, thanks James,” grumbled Richard, helping him fasten the seatbelt then turning round, more confident in his driving now, and heading home.

Stig was waiting at the door when they arrived. Initially, Richard thought it was to check his car, because the driver grabbed the keys and shot out to study it intently as soon as Richard’s foot crossed the threshold, but Richard had barely staggered across the room with James and noted that the remaining party goers had all left, before Stig had reappeared. He pushed them all to sit down at the table with Jeremy, joining them at the head, and addressing Richard.

Silently.

Which was always a bit tricky.

Stig pointed to Richard, holding his hand flat in the air before moving his hand downwards. Then he reached into his pocket, pulling out a photo of the three of them taken on Jeremy’s 70th birthday. Three old men, stood together grinning.

Stig pointed at Jeremy and James.

Richard stared at him.

“I think he’s saying that if you stay grown up, we’re all old,” said James, apparently both more on the ball than he’d seemed in the car and better than Richard at Stig-charades. “You can choose,” and James looked at Jeremy to receive a nod at this, “it’s not up to me or Jez, but we have to all change together. Either we’re all old or we’re all young, nothing in between.”

Richard looked at his friends, both of them nodding at him, apparently unconcerned by what he might choose.

Then he studied the photo.


	2. Chapter 2

Richard twitched, a noise from outside disturbing him. He opened his eyes, seeing the party still going on around him, and The Stig sat beside him, half hidden behind the curtain, looking at him intently. As Richard blinked away the, incredibly vivid, dream, Stig wandered away, leaving him alone with his thoughts again.

Bracing himself, Richard sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching as he tried to pull himself together. He was still coming round when Stig returned, this time with Jeremy and James, certainly tipsy, but not so drunk that they wouldn’t obey Stiggy.

“Hamster?” said Jeremy, sliding down the window to sit on the floor beside Richard, his arm instantly reaching round him to shuffle him away from the curtain and onto Jeremy’s lap. “What’s going on? Why are you not joining the party? Why is Stig telling us off?”

Richard wasn’t sure he could answer right away. Instead, he turned in Jeremy’s lap, throwing his arms round Jeremy’s neck and hanging on, silently trying to get his thoughts together.

Jeremy squeezed back, turning his head to glance at James as he did so, his expression hidden from Richard.

“Hamster,” said James softly, his hand reaching out to rub Richard’s back as, finally, his tears started to fall.

Slowly, surrounded by his two mates-cum-big-brothers, Richard found himself explaining the whole thing, the futility, the fear and the dream where he was big again and he got to save them instead, hiccupping as he went along, the tears soaking into Jeremy’s shirt beneath his chin. They listened silently, the warmth of the two of them the only reminder that they were still there. Finally, when it was all out, Richard relaxed against Jeremy’s shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his presence.

It was James who broke the silence. “Is it not worth it?” he asked. “Five years here, with us, to earn yourself a whole other lifetime of mucking about with cars – if you still want it.”

“It doesn’t feel like it’s getting any closer,” sobbed Richard.

“Because of your birthday?” asked James.

Richard nodded against Jeremy’s shoulder. “A bit.”

“That’s not going to happen again.” James assured him. “We all lost – or gained – the same number of years. There’s no way you’re under twelve now. We just weren’t sure in April.”

“And you know you’ve grown,” added Jeremy quietly. “Your trousers are getting a bit short.”

“That’s true,” acknowledged Richard, perking up momentarily.

“And the resolutions,” added James. “We’ll be more able to do more ambitious stuff once you’re grown up, not less. Can you really see 70 year old Jeremy doing the Dakar Rally with all his dodgy bits and pieces? But at 28 or 29 he could. It’s just a question of waiting.”

“And making resolutions that are the right size for now,” put in Jeremy. “Like successfully riding the unicycle across the garden or making a meal without anyone getting ill.”

Richard thumped him, but he backed up a bit, no longer clinging. “Oaf.”

“There is one thing we need to sort out though,” pointed out Jeremy. “Why didn’t you come to us when you were feeling down at the party, Hamster? Why didn’t you tell us? Instead of hiding in a corner?” He pushed Richard back on his lap, far enough away that he could look him in the eyes, though his hands gently kept hold of the boy’s arms.

Richard looked up at him, glancing at James too, then back to Jeremy. “I don’t know, it just felt like I should be able to look after myself. You were both having a good time, and I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“But we were having a good time with you,” said James. “Not the drink or our mates, because we’re partying together.”

“Well, the drink was nice,” added Jeremy, earning himself a glare from James.

“I didn’t even see you,” whispered Richard. “And no one talks to me like they used to, and I couldn’t get drunk enough not to care.” His voice rose as he spoke, virtually shouting as he added, “I was lonely, OK, just an invisible kid! So I hid..”

“Where no one else could see,” concurred James, who had been an outsider at parties before.

“Yeah,” replied Richard, more quietly, looking down at his lap. “It’s stupid.”

“Well not telling us is stupid,” agreed Jeremy, gently tilting Richard’s head back up. “I’m no good at this stuff, Hamster, you have to tell me. I’m never going to guess right.”

Tears springing up in his eyes again, tears that were now reflected in Jeremy’s eyes, Richard nodded. “OK.” He responded, not trusting himself to say anything else.

“Good,” said James. “I’m going to get us a cup of tea.”

Jeremy chuckled. “Only James could finish a drunken party with a cup of tea.”

Richard smiled, still not quite back to his usual bouncy self. “He’s James.”

“I think he spent the party debating the ins and outs of a particular engine with one of the crew, I’m pretty sure you could have interrupted anytime,” grinned Jeremy. “Whether you’d want to risk it is another question. And you definitely could have interrupted me, you might have saved me from making a fool of myself.”

“How did you make a fool of yourself? No wait, I’m not sure I want to know,” Richard, finally grinned.

“You should definitely have found me for the countdown,” added Jeremy. “No matter how drunk I looked.”

Richard glanced at his watch. “Nearly 2 now,” he said, yawning just at the thought of it. “Maybe we can have a countdown a couple of hours late – in a we’re a bit rubbish so we’ll never get it quite right, kind of way.”

“Show me that,” demanded Jeremy, grabbing his arm to get a better look at the watch. “James!”

Richard winced, unprepared for Jeremy’s yelling, then squeaked as the tall man took a tighter grip on him and stood up with him still holding on round his neck.

“James!” repeated Jeremy, heading for the kitchen. “We need to do a countdown.”

“What?” James appeared through the kitchen door, his tea preparation clearly not yet complete. “Did you want one?”

“We need to do a countdown,” declared Jeremy, twisting to show James Richard’s watch. “1 minute to go.”

James looked at them quizzically, but went with it. “OK.”

Jeremy sat Richard down on the counter – well away from the kettle, leaving one arm casually against his friend and grabbing his watch so that everyone could see it. “10,” he began.

Together, they counted the rest. “9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Happy new year!”

Jeremy, taking the lead as always, grabbed both his friends in a massive hug. “There,” he said, “that is a much better start to the year.”

“Yeah,” replied Richard, squeezing back.

James smiled. “That’s good,” he agreed, patting Richard on the shoulder. “Can I have my tea now? I’m really feeling quite drunk at the moment.”

“Yes, James, you can have your tea – if you make me one too,” agreed Jeremy.

“Hamster?”

Richard shook his head, instead yawning again and leaning back against Jeremy. “I’m going to enjoy the lack of hangover in the morning.”

“That’s fine,” said Jeremy, “but no jumping on my bed.”


End file.
